Proceed at Your Own Risk

The bright sign warned of potentially very dangerous avalanche or snow slide paths, and said to proceed at your own risk.

Tim and Wyatt happy to not proceed further

The “Avalanche Hazard” warning blazed yellow on wood posts at the base of the mountain. It was hard to ignore the sign posted by the U.S. Forest Service, right in the middle of our snowshoe trail. Seemed it was worth a stop and read.

In 22 years of living in Colorado, I had never seen or climbed St. Mary’s Glacier in the Rocky Mountains, just a few miles west of Denver. The glacier is a semi- permanent snowfield in the Arapaho National Forest at about 11,000 feet. This April, with the heavy snowfall all winter in the high country, everything around us was a snowfield.

My nephew Wyatt and I had been itchin’ for a snowshoe do-over since our last failed attempt due to a blizzard spanking. Climbing a glacier seemed like an interesting thing to do. And the weather was nice.

The bright sign warned of potentially very dangerous avalanche or snow slide paths, and said to proceed at your own risk. But the notice didn’t stop there. The fine print disclaimer read (I kid you not):

Sheesh! Who wouldn’t turn around at this point and just go back to their car at the trailhead? Walking into a Denver biker bar with a loony grin, holding up handfuls of money, shouting that Harley riders are idiots, sounds safer to me.

Despite the unwelcoming advice to hikers, we pressed on. Snow shower clouds built ominously around us, freshly sugar-powdering the peaks around us. But the sun broke through in patches where we ascended the steep glacier slope. Curiously—and perhaps more than telling—no other snowshoe prints preceded us. It seemed like no one had been on the glacier in some time, perhaps heeding the advice on the notice.

Near the several-hundred-foot elevation gain to the top, we watched snow blow off the cornice overhangs on adjoining ridges. To hike up further would mean crossing the remaining section, rather than staying close to the boulders at the edge. A layer of new spring snow on the winter pack seemed likely to break loose. Although I wanted to see higher and farther, we decided not to “proceed at our own risk” at this point. Our families, and search and rescue teams, would thank us.

We just hoped now that we wouldn’t be exposed to the unreasonable acts of others on our way out. (See photos of this trip)